Nothing Short of Invincible
by Lyrical Liquorice
Summary: Dean gets sick, but Dean can't seem to even do that normally. What if Sam doesn't spot what's actually wrong with his brother in time? Sick!Dean. Set sometime after All Hell Breaks Loose Part 2, but before Season 3. Please review!
1. Chapter 1

_****__**Nothing Short of Invincible**__**  
Part One.**_

An icy hand pressing against Dean's cheek caused him to wake, his glassy eyes shifting around the too bright motel room but not actually taking in any of his blurred surroundings. He allowed his eyes to fall shut, letting out a pained whimper as he recalled an image of the body of his younger brother lying motionless on a stained mattress, but was shaken back to reality by a strong hand on his shoulder.

"Dean, I need you to open your eyes for me. Just for a sec, ok?"

The words seemed to fall on deaf ears as Dean let out a laboured breath, and his head felt heavier against the cold hand that was still held against his cheek.

"Dean!"

His eyes lazily fluttered open, staring up into hazel eyes that he was certain belonged to his mother.

"M...Mom..." he stumbled, letting out a relieved sigh from his aching lungs.

"No, Dean. Hey! Just keep your eyes open for a second. It's me, It's Sam, Sammy. Remember?It's me."

It was only then that the image of his baby brother seemed to focus.

"Sammy." Dean breathed, attempting a smile. Dean managed to sit up long enough for Sam to practically force medicine into him, before he was gently eased down onto his back by his not-so-little 'little' brother.

"Dean Winchester never gets sick, my ass." Sam almost smirked, running a damp washcloth over his older brother's feverish forehead.

"Flu sucks" the eldest Winchester groaned as Sam pulled the blankets up around his shaking shoulders. That was the last thing he remembered before falling back into unconsciousness.

*

Sam rubbed his eyes and yawned, leaning against the solid headboard of his brother's bed. Dean was restless, sweat running down his flushed cheeks which indicated to Sam that he was in for a long few days.

Thinking about it, it had all come on kinda sudden. Yesterday morning Dean seemed fine, but after a few hours of driving his sunglasses had emerged, mumbling something about a headache. That was where it all started. From there it was a downward spiral, and by lunchtime Dean had agreed to Sam taking over driving. Then dinner rolled around, by which time Dean was puking up his lunch on a hard shoulder, propping himself up against his beloved impala. After that, it hadn't taken much persuading from Sam for them to stop off at the next motel. When Sam checked on Dean during the night, he was burning up. Dean only had a year left now, and he was spending his time cooped up in a motel. Just great.

Sam's thoughts were interrupted by Dean waking up next to him with a strangled whimper, pulling down the blanket on top of him.

"S'okay, Dean." Sam whispered, glancing down at his brother, pulling the blanket back up around his shoulders.

"Neck hurts, Sammy."

"I know, but you can't have anymore meds for a few hours. Just try and go back to sleep."  
Sam replaced the fallen washcloth on Dean's forehead and brushed a hand over his brother's damp hair in an attempt to soothe him as Dean curled against Sam's hip.

"Don't feel good, Sammy."

"I know. Try and sleep, Dean."

"Sammy...I think...I think I'm gonna..."

The next thing Sam knew, Dean was wide awake and sat bolt upright with the back of his fisted hand clamped against his mouth. One look at Dean's drained face alerted Sam to what Dean meant. Scanning the room, Sam cursed silently when he failed to locate the trashcan and turned back to his shaking brother.

"Think you can make it to the bathroom?" he asked, jumping up and waiting as Dean slowly shook his head once before hesitating and nodding instead. Carefully, he pressed both hands against the mattress and swung his legs over the side, almost falling onto Sam when he attempted to stand.

"I've got you" Sam assured him, hooking one arm around his older brother's waist and helping him cross the short distance to the bathroom.

All seemed to be going pretty well, all things considered, until Sam flicked on the light. A pulse of pain jolted through Dean's aching head and he lost the fight to keep what little he had in his stomach down.

Dean was fighting against Sam's grip, but Sam knew that if he let go of Dean, his brother's face would become fast friends with the tile floor. He hadn't quite thought through the alternative though, when instead of fighting against Sam's grip, Dean clutched onto his brother's old grey t-shirt and doubled up as his abdominal muscles contracted painfully, expelling his stomach contents over Sam's shirt.

"Jeeze, Dean" Sam grimaced, as his older brother spluttered and stumbled. Sam managed to lower him down to the floor and get him to the toilet incase Dean threw up again.

"'m s'rry..." Dean mumbled almost incoherently and stared up at Sam with watering green eyes.

"It's ok. It's just a shirt." Sam sighed, illustrating his point as he slipped it off, throwing into the bathtub.

Sam watched Dean unsteadily scrubbed a hand across his lips and before he slowly peeled off his older brother's damp shirt and cleaned him up. Dean shuddered as Sam ran the washcloth across his chest and neck. Normally he'd make some comment about "Nurse Sammy" but right now all he could concentrate on was the pain in his neck as though he'd slept funny, and his pulsing headache. He barely registered it when Sam pulled a hoodie over his head and hauled him to his feet.

"Let's get you back to bed, yeah?"

_**TBC  
Poor Dean.  
Dean doesn't do normal,  
and that certainly applies to getting sick.  
So how will Sam cope when things take a turn for the worst?  
Please review!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Nothing Short of Invincible.**__**  
Part Two.**_

"I'm ok, S'mmy", Dean slurred when Sam wrapped a freakishly strong arm around his waist and helped up off the cold tile floor, Dean's hand gripping tightly to the sink as the room started to spin, turning his knuckles white.

The floor appeared to drop from beneath him and he cursed under his breath when he realised he was only being held upright by his brother. His weedy little 'Samantha', who over the last year or two seemed to have developed a muscular frame, replacing the scrawny teenage figure Dean remembered.

When did Sam get strong enough to hold Dean up?

Sam didn't seem to acknowledge Dean's poor attempt to assure his younger brother that he was perfectly capable of walking to the bed by himself. The journey seemed to take forever, with Sam holding Dean tightly around his middle while the older Winchester stumbled through another dizzy spell and although he'd never admit it out loud, he was secretly glad that Sam had hold of him.

The sheets on Dean's bed were damp with sweat, so Sam decided to put Dean in his bed instead, pulling blankets tightly around his older brother. Sam knew that Dean must have been feeling pretty bad when he allowed Sam to put him to bed and tuck him in with no arguments or sarcastic comments, something that had never happened before no matter how sick Dean had been.

Sam leaned over and brushed a section of Dean's dark hair back from his forehead and replaced it with his hand, wincing at how abnormally hot his brother felt. Dean squirmed against the touch when Sam moved his hand to cup Dean's cheek, finding the hand cold and uncomfortable.

"You're still pretty hot, Dean."

"Thanks", Dean half smirked when Sam removed his hand, eyes at half mast and not really registering when Sam mentioned something about meds and getting his temperature down.

"Just get some rest dude, you look terrible." Sam said when he noticed that Dean wasn't paying attention, taking in the slight glistening sheen of sweat on his brother's paling skin, and the darkening circles around his green eyes.

"I feel terrible."

Dean stifled a yawn before letting out a sharp cough and wrapping his arms around himself, willing the throbbing in every muscle he possessed to stop. Even though the hoodie he now had on was much warmer than the old black t-shirt he'd previously been wearing, chills still jolted through his muscular frame.

He weakly wiped his cheek with his sleeve and cast his mind back to the last time he'd even seen the dark hoodie, guessing it would have been the time that he bust out of the hospital after suffering the heart attack.  
Damn, electricity's a bitch.

He looked up to see Sam at the end of the opposite bed, but the image of his brother searching though his duffel bag for a clean shirt started to blur and the light suddenly seemed too bright, making his headache almost unbearable and forcing him to curl up under the thick burnt-orange duvet, whimpering.

Sam turned around at the sound, fully clothed once more and thoroughly worn out due to taking care of a sick Dean, scanning the shivering lump under the covers of his bed and taking a slow breath. He truly felt sorry for Dean right now, he didn't get sick often but when he did he got the full package.

When Sam peeled back the corner of the duvet he found that Dean was practically wiped out and drifting on the edge of sleep, leaving an exhausted Sam to decide whether he could physically fight sleep any longer himself. Glancing from his brother to the opposite bed he realised that they now only had one bed to share seeing as he didn't really fancy sleeping in the damp space his brother had left in the now deserted bed.

Yawning, he pulled the covers back slightly and crawled under the thick comforter next to Dean, a light smile forming on his lips as Dean shifted into the warmth of his younger brother's side, in the exact same way that a much younger Sam would do to a teenage Dean when he got sick.

"S'mmy..." Dean drowsily whispered against his brother's side.

"Yeah? I'm right here, Dean" Sam looked down at the curled up form of his older brother, a pained expression on his now flushed face.

"Light"

After reaching up and flicking off the light, Sam listening through the darkness but could only hear the soft sound of his brother's steady breathing. Assuming that Dean was now falling asleep, he shifted his head on the pillow and closed his eyes, yawning.

"Sammy...", came an almost inaudible whisper through the darkened room, alerting a half asleep Sam that Dean was infact, still awake.

"Mm?"

"Cold."

Without even opening his eyes, Sam rolled over and pulled the duvet further around Dean wrapping his arm around him as well, not really registering that he was cuddling his big brother.

"Better?"

A faint nod against his chest signaled that it was, and Sam decided it was ok to allow sleep to wash over him. Just before he succumbed to sleep entirely another faint whisper filled the otherwise silent room.

"Sammy..."

"Yeah?" An almost frustrated sigh escaped Sam's lips as he snapped his eyes open, staring up at the dark ceiling before feeling bad about getting pissed, knowing Dean was feeling like shit.

"Head hurts."

"I know, another couple of hours and you can have some more painkillers", Sam whispered back. Dean groaned lightly before falling silent again while Sam struggled to stay conscious.

"Sammy..."

This time, Sam didn't answer.

"Sam?"

Dean gently rubbed his forehead against Sam's shirt, the only response he received being light snores from his exhausted brother.

"Thanks."

_**TCB  
Thank you so much for the reviews and favouriting and all that!  
It's so nice to hear that people like this, you're awesome!  
Next chapter should be up soon.  
Please let me know what you thought of this chapter! :)**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Nothing Short of Invincible**__**  
Part Three.**_

Dean woke in the early hours of the morning, confused and unaware of where he was as he tried to squint through the pitch black room. With a racing heart he tried to move, gritting his teeth at the throbbing pain that presented itself in every limb and eventually gave up, curling tightly into a ball. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this sick; he hadn't had the flu for years but he was pretty sure he'd hadn't felt this bad then.

On top of everything, he was alone in the world. Dean was sure of it. He could see his baby brother's dead body lying in that tiny room so vividly in his mind's eye, blood staining the grubby mattress from the stab wound on his back.

The yellow eyed demon had taken everyone he'd ever loved from him in the worst ways imaginable.

His mother, burning to death on the ceiling of Sammy's nursery.  
His father, trading his life for Dean's.  
His brother, bleeding to death in Dean's arms.

Dean felt like he'd been punched when he imagined his life alone, wrapping his arms tighter around his knees and letting tears fall freely down his cheeks.

He became vaguely aware of someone or something moving on the bed next to him and his heart skipped a beat, terrified. Then he was being shaken, but he couldn't open his eyes. He just couldn't. If he didn't open his eyes it would all be ok.

He heard someone swearing, but wasn't entirely sure if it was real or imagined, and distorted images flooded his mind, his dead mom screaming at Dean for not protecting her youngest son, and how could he blame her for saying it when he himself was to blame for everything? Dean let out a strangled shout, more afraid than he'd ever been in his life.

Only when two freezing hands pressed against his cheeks did he slowly and carefully open his eyes, the person before him blurred by the tears that didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon.

"Thank God" he heard a familiar voice breathe in a sigh of relief.

"Sam?" Dean asked, blinking back tears to get a better look.

"Just try and relax, Dean. You were hallucinating. At least that's what I think you were doing, you were shaking and crying and -"

"Sammy?" Dean repeated, feeling memories wash over him like icy water. Sam was ok. Sam was alive. Sam was sat right there infront of him, alive. Because Dean made a deal, yeah, he remembered now.

"It's me. Jeeze, Dean. How out of it are you?" Sam asked to himself as he wiped the beads of sweat and tears from Dean's face with his hand.

The older Winchester drew a ragged breath and forced a shadow of a smile, ignoring whatever it was that Sam was saying, content with knowing his brother was safe.

"I'll call 911 if I have to because your fever's crazy high and you're scaring the hell out of me."

"Sam, you're rambling", Dean interrupted, determined to retain a scrap of dignity now that he was fully aware of where he was. He suggested that instead of calling an ambulance (which was decided would only be a last resort, especially since they were wanted by just about every form of authority in the USA) Sam should just dish out the good meds and leave Dean be.

Sam went to the bathroom to fill the glass with water, glancing at the clock as he passed and groaning inwardly when he noticed that it was nearly 5:00am. After this week, their body clocks were going to be wrecked.

He'd filled the glass and had just turned to get back to Dean when he was met with the sight of his brother, trembling as he supported himself on the doorframe before sinking to his knees by the toilet to throw up.

Apparently, Dean could move quickly when he needed to puke.

Sam knelt beside his older brother, placing the glass on the floor and rubbing a hand in slow circles over Dean's back as he retched. There was nothing in him to throw up, making him feel even worse as his muscles spasmed in an attempt to empty his stomach.

"Take it easy", Sam soothed as Dean continued to dry heave, feeling the heat of Dean's skin radiating through the hoodie.

When Dean was done, he leant back against the wall, a sheen of sweat glistening in the fluorescent light of the motel bathroom. Sam handed him the glass of water, keeping hold of the bottom as Dean raised it to his lips with shaking hands.

"You sure you don't need to go to hospital?" Sam asked when he'd taken a sip.

"You worry over nothing, Sammy" Dean breathed, pulling gently at the glass that both of them were holding.  
"I'm a big boy, I can do it myself."

Sam bit the inside of his mouth to prevent him from saying anything as he let go of the glass and watched Dean carefully as he raised it to his lips again.

He was shivering pretty badly, and Sam barely managed to catch the glass before it hit the floor when it slipped from Dean's trembling hands. He placed the now empty glass on the floor and snapped his head up to his brother, taking in the front of Dean's hoodie, soaked with the spilled water.

"Sorry", Dean mumbled, looking like a lost puppy with his wide green eyes staring into Sam's concerned face.

"No need to apologise, it's only water. But we're gonna need to get this off, it's soaked through", Sam reassured him, tugging lightly at the baggy sleeve of Dean's hoodie.

"Arms up", he ordered and watched Dean do as he was told, behaving almost like a child.

Without saying anything, Sam carefully peeled the hoodie over Dean's head before reaching up to hang it temporarily over the edge of the sink.

Turning back to his now half naked brother, panic rose in Sam's chest and time seemed to come to a complete stop.

"I'm cold..." Dean complained, ignoring the look on his brother's face and wrapping his arms around his exposed skin, flinching away from Sam's touch when he reached out to move Dean's arms.

"Dean, just move your arm for me, 'kay?" Sam asked, pulling Dean's arm away from his goosebump covered skin rather than actually asking Dean to move for himself.

"Shit." Sam gasped, his hazel eyes wide in shock as they scanned his older brother's front, gently running the tips of his fingers across the red/purple rash that was spread across the bottom of Dean's chest.

Dean watched Sam run from the room, pulling his legs up to his chest and wrapping his bare arms around his knees in an attempt to warm himself up on the icy tile floor.  
From the other room he heard his brother's panicked voice.

_"I need an ambulance now, it's my brother..."_

_**TBC  
Thanks for all the reviews! :)  
Please keep reviewing and such and letting me know what you think!  
I know some people guessed what was wrong with Dean from the start,  
So well done if you did!  
The thing is...has Sam figured it out in time?**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Nothing Short of Invincible.**__**  
Part Four.**_

Sam dialed the three numbers with shaking hands, bringing the phone to his ear and closing his eyes.

"I need an ambulance now, it's my brother..." He began, awaiting the operators further instructions.

Before he got a chance to explain what was wrong, he heard the pained shout of his brother echoing from the bathroom.

_"Sir? Are you still there?"  
_  
Torn between waiting for an ambulance and tending to his older brother, Sam wasn't paying attention to the woman on the other end of the phone line. Another groan from Dean, followed by the sound of something, or _someone_, falling over sealed Sam's decision.

"I'm bringing him in myself" he hurriedly replied, before ending the call and throwing it down onto his bed whilst half sprinting the few steps to the bathroom, finding Dean curled up on the floor.

"Fell..." he mumbled, closing his eyes when Sam placed a hand on his bare shoulder.

"Up we get", Sam said, wrapping his arms around Dean and hauling him onto his unsteady feet.

Sam managed to get the semi-conscious Dean to the bed with unnerving ease, letting Dean fall onto the soft blankets as he grabbed the keys to the Impala along with the first hoodie he could find from his own bag and turning back to his half naked brother.

The younger hunter held the hoodie with both hands, running his eyes once more over the purple rash splotched over his brother's abdomen, biting his lip so hard he thought he might draw blood.

"Arms up." Panic edged his wavering voice as he pulled the grey hoodie over Dean's head and down to his waist, watching it's length slip easily over his brother's smaller body.

"S'bad?" Dean slurred, staring up at his brother with unfocussed fever dulled eyes.

Sam didn't answer, his lips pursed into either his bitch-face or brood-face (Dean couldn't quite tell the difference, either way it definitely wasn't a good sign) and grabbed Dean tightly around his middle, pulling him off the bed.

It was a struggle to get the the car, Dean mumbling incoherent words in an attempt to reassure Sam, but to be perfectly honest, Sam didn't really have time to think about as he half dragged, half carried his older brother across the gravel outside.

It was raining.

Of course it was raining.

Since when did anything, even the little things, go right for the Winchesters?

Sam huffed as he reached the Impala, peering awkwardly through his rain soaked hair that was now plastered to his forehead before wrestling Dean into the front seat. Once Sam had Dean in the front he realised that he probably should have put him in the back, but it was too late to move him now.

When Sam climbed in and looked over at his brother, he noticed Dean's head motionless against the window, eyes closed and droplets of either sweat or raindrops rolling down his temple.

Sam scrubbed his own hair back messily with one hand, swearing aloud as he reversed out of the motel parking lot as fast as the car would physically go.

Dean cried out when the car sped over a bump in the road, the movement making his head bang. He was pretty sure his brain was going to start leaking out of his ears any minute now. Sam breathed a brief sigh of relief, removing his eyes from the dark road just long enough to notice that Dean's eyes were open a fraction. At least he was conscious.

"How you holdin' up?"

Dean tried to move, groaning when he felt the tightness in his neck. He gave up attempting to turn around in his seat, pressing his burning forehead against the window instead.

"I'm fine, Sam. Just...let me sleep." Dean squirmed against the leather when a shiver crawled down his spine.

His personality was interchangeable whenever he got sick, Sam knew that much. He could go from a pain in the ass authoritarian big brother to a clingy, whining 5 year old in three seconds flat. It was only now Sam was speeding down a pitch black road with rain splattering over the windscreen, panic gripping every cell of his body, that he discovered a sharp, sinister edge to Dean's behaviour.

Sam knew the hospital wasn't much further, he'd made a mental note when they arrived a couple of days ago just incase anything happened. Hunters could never be too careful.

Dean mumbled something, making Sam's grip on the steering wheel subconsciously tighten.

"S'mmy...I d'nt..." Dean forced out, the hum of the engine rattling through his aching body. Sam heard his brother clear his throat and deliriously attempt to continue.

"I don't...feel so...so good, Sam."

Sam instinctively pulled over to the side of the road, assuming Dean was experiencing another wave of nausea. He soon realised he was wrong.

In the same second that he removed his hands from the wheel, content that it was safe enough to care for his brother, he felt his mouth fall open in shock.

Terror hit him like a punch, and he found himself momentarily paralysed as he observed his brother's eyes roll back. Sam practically threw himself across the small distance between him and the older hunter, attempting to hold down Dean as he thrashed uncontrollably in his seat, overcome by the seizure.

He knew he was probably doing everything wrong, but what else could he do?

Swearing repeatedly, he cursed every second his brother was convulsing beneath his strong arms for feeling like a lifetime.

When Dean stilled, Sam pressed two shaking fingers against his clammy neck, letting out a hurried breath he didn't even know he was holding when he felt the steady throb of a pulse. The 27 year old before him appeared so small, curled awkwardly against the leather.

Sam pulled himself back to his own side of the car and floored the gas, literally thanking God that the hospital was just around the corner, slipping in a silent prayer that once they'd arrived Dean would be fine.

_**TBC  
I wasn't sure about this chapter...what do you think?  
Please review, I like to know what you think! :)  
More to come shortly...**_


	5. Chapter 5

_****__**Nothing Short of Invincible.**__**  
Part Five.  
**___

Meningitis.

Sam repeated the word in his head again and again as he sat alone in the small room, an untouched cup of coffee left to go cold on the small table before him. The image of the vivid purple rash blossoming over Dean's abdomen was still burnt into his mind's eye.

_Meningitis._

He'd said the word so many times it seemed to lose meaning, along with all the other words he'd become accustomed to during the last however many hours.

_Blood Cultures.  
CT Scans.  
MRI Scans.  
Cerebrospinal Fluid.  
Lumbar Puncture.  
Meningitis._

He tried to call Bobby, but when he scrolled through his phone and came across the number labeled Dad, he found himself unable to move. It had been nearly a year since they'd burned their father's bones in a deserted field, yet Sam still couldn't bring himself to delete his number.

Silently, he pushed the phone back into his pocket and laid his head into his hands, concentrating on slow steady breaths. In and out.

Dean had to survive this. He just had to. Because if he didn't, Sam would be left alone, and that thought alone petrified the younger Winchester. How the hell would he cope without his big brother?

Sam forced himself to push the thought to the back of his mind, no longer feeling strong enough to even contemplate the idea of hunting alone.

"Please, Dean. Just keep breathing", he pleaded to the deserted room, pushing his hair back from his eyes with a trembling hand.

How the hell did Dean get meningitis?  
Only kids got that, right? Wrong. Apparently, very wrong.

The door opened, allowing fresh fluorescent light to flood the room. It was a doctor, the doctor treating Dean. He introduced himself and sat opposite the young hunter, clearing his throat before explaining what was going to happen.

Apparently they'd performed the lumbar puncture, after putting Dean on anticonvulsants, and the doctor took it upon himself to drone on about what the procedure had involved. Something to do with the insertion of a needle into the spinal canal. There was more to it, but Sam's concentration was fading fast.

Sam was only taking in the odd word or sentence until the doctor finally moved onto Dean's condition. An awkward silence ensued which made Sam's heart stop completely. He was just about to lose his patience when the doctor shuffled in his white coat and looked Sam straight in the eye, his hands clasped in his lap.

"It's been confirmed that your brother has bacterial meningitis. Basically, the protective layers around his brain and spinal cord have become inflamed. It's treatable, and it looks like we've caught it in time, but we won't know of any long term damage until he wakes up."

Nodding rhythmically, Sam rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. Dean was ok. Forget any long term damage, his brother wasn't leaving him anytime soon and that was good enough for now.  
"How long 'till he wakes up?"

The doctor stood up, the serious tone to both his voice and expression dissolving.  
"We're just going to have to take it as it comes, it all depends on the extent of the damage already caused."

The two shook hands, Sam standing momentarily to be polite. The moment the door closed behind the doctor, Sam fell heavily into the plastic chair and leant his head back against the wall, brushing both hands through his hair. A shadow of a smile crept onto his slightly parted lips.

Dean was going to be ok.

_*******_

Pain was the first thing to hit Dean when he woke up.

It flooded through his veins like boiling water, reaching every muscle in his feeble body. Squinting through the piercing light, he managed to make out the vague figure of a nurse at the foot of his bed. Dean allowed himself to smile that trademark crooked Dean Winchester smile as she came into focus, watching her petite form as she moved around the room.

For once Sam had gotten him into a hospital where the nurses were hot.

It was then that his train of thought halted and doubled back, confusion spreading through his brain.

He was in hospital?

He strained to remember what had happened previous to waking up, images of the cheap motel flooding back to him.

He had the flu, yeah, he remembered Sam having to practically carry him to the bathroom. He remembered wearing Sam's hoodie, and thinking how comfortable it was as he pulled the too long sleeves over his hands.

But he had no recollection of how he'd ended up in hospital.

Dean opened his mouth to find out what was wrong but no sound passed his chapped lips. He cleared his throat, wincing and closing his tired eyes at the burning sensation it caused, suddenly wishing he had a glass of water.

When he opened his watering eyes again, swallowing carefully, he saw that the blonde nurse was hovering over him, smiling reassuringly. Her lips were moving, but no sound seemed to come out.

Dean knitted his eyebrows and licked his lips, taking a slow, steady breath and blinking rapidly. He opened his eyes again and nodded slightly, focusing on the smiling nurse as she spoke, hearing nothing but almost deafening silence.

He cleared his throat and murmured an apology, but even that produced no sound and was quickly followed up by an equally mute profanity.

By now his heart was racing. The kindly nurse had slipped her hand into his, running her soft thumb over the back of his calloused fingers. His breathing quickened. He noticed the machines that he was hooked up to just behind her, suddenly realising how void of rhythmic beeping the sterile room was.

The nurse's smile faded from her face and she called for assistance, her hand leaving Dean's as he panicked, trying to get up but finding himself just falling back onto the soft bed through complete lack of energy. He glanced up at the door with wide green eyes, momentarily relieved to see Sam stood there, leaning on the doorframe as a doctor pushed past him.

Tears slid down Dean's pale cheeks when he saw the Doctor's lips moving, but heard nothing. Nothing but silence. It echoed around him, drowning him.

He tried to jerk away as drugs were pumped into his veins, but strong arms held him down. His closing eyes darted around the room, every scrap of energy he had left used to try and move, to escape. Sam was pulled forward from the door, moving to his brother's bedside with no hesistation. Without even trying to say anything, Sam gripped Dean's hand with both of his before moving one hand to soothingly rub his brother's shoulder.

Dean locked pleading eyes with Sammy, reading the sorrow on the younger Winchester's face. Feeling so unbelievably tired, there was nothing Dean could do but watch the image of his brother blur and fade. Darkness ensued.

_**TBC  
Thanks for all the reviews,  
I'm glad so many people like this story.  
I hope you liked this chapter, I wasn't so sure.  
Anyways, let me know what you thought! :)**_


	6. Chapter 6

_****__**Nothing Short of Invincible.**__**  
Part Six.**_

Sam watched the peaceful expression on Dean's face dissolved as he started to wake up again. He knew that really he should go and fetch a nurse, especially after the way Dean had freaked out last time, but somehow, he couldn't bring himself to even move.

He just sat there, watching Dean swallow slowly before cautiously blinking open his shimmering eyes, his lips curling into a comfortable smile when he saw his younger brother beside him.

Sam's hand tightened on the notepad and pen he was holding, biting his lip nervously until Dean let out a contented sigh, his face immediately wrinkling into the confused expression that Sam had dreaded.

He opened his mouth to try and speak but was halted by Sam pressing a firm hand against his shoulder. The younger Winchester helped Dean to sit up before hauling himself onto the bed beside him, perching on the edge of the blue blanket. Sam took a moment to try and sugar coat what he was about to tell Dean, bearing in mind that Dean's fragile body was barely on the mend.

Dean watched with searching eyes as Sam scribbled something down on the notepad, feeling his heart already begin to race at the realisation of not actually being able to hear anything. Sam felt his brother shift in the bed, instinctively turning and grabbing Dean's wrist with one hand, holding out the notepad with the other.

Failing in his attempt to hold back the rising fear in his throat, Dean hurriedly read the scrawl of black ink.

_'Don't panic'_

In any other situation, Dean would have made fun of Sam's terrible handwriting, but right now the opportunity to score a point on his brother was the last thing on his mind.

Sam pulled the notepad back, continuing to scribble a rushed explanation before Dean did the exact opposite of what he'd just asked.

Dean scanned the next message.

_'Meningitis'_

Sam met Dean's widening eyes, before Dean snatched up the pad and the pen.

_'Deaf?'_

The younger Winchester's heart sank when he read the word, those four letters confirming what the doctors had previously told him. For a few moments, Sam just stared at the word, almost forgetting everything around him.

It wasn't until Dean swatted the top of his arm that he looked back down at his brother, slowly nodding once. He watched his brother's lips fall open before his red-rimmed eyes drifted closed. A betraying tear trickled down Dean's cheek, causing him to open his eyes again to wipe it away, picking up the pen once more as his jaw trembled.

_'Permanent?'_

Sam knew what it said without even having to look at the word, his jaw tightening when he looked up and met Dean's desperate eyes, glossy with held back tears.

"We-" he began, before he remembered that Dean couldn't hear him, letting out a shaky breath as he turned away from his brother.  
"God..." His voice caught in his throat and he had to chew his bottom lip to hold back the quickly forming tears. Sam gently slid the pen from Dean's fingers, flipping the page and writing his answer.

_'We don't know'_

Dean took the notepad and nodded slowly, drawing a long, deep breath before flipping the pad shut. Sam shifted his weight on the edge of the bed apprehensively, watching the corner of Dean's lip curl up as he took in the fact that no one really knew what was going to happen.

He was impressed with how Dean was taking the news, up until both the notepad and pen were hurtling towards the nearest wall.

The pen clattered as it hit the floor, the notepad not even reaching the wall, it's pages fluttering and tearing before it came to rest.

Dean let tears of frustration fall without hindrance, strangled sobs filling the room for only Sam to hear.

Sam moved so that he was closer to Dean, careful not to disturb any wires as he reached out and pressed both hands against his brother's stubble covered cheeks. Slowly, he rested his forehead against Dean's to try and provide some kind, any kind, of comfort.

Sam squeezed his tired eyes shut, feeling the Dean reach out and grip onto his biceps as he leaned closer into his brother's touch. Ragged sobs racked his weakened body as Sam shifted his hands from Dean's cheeks and wrapped his arms carefully around his older brother's shoulders.

It wasn't long until Dean wore himself out and the amount of time between his hitching breaths lengthened. Sam hadn't seen his brother cry like that since they were kids, maybe not even then.

He helped Dean steadily back so he was laying down in the bed, pulling the blanket back over his chest while the two of them formed an unspoken pact to allow Dean that moment of vulnerability but to never mention it again.

The older of the two closed his now puffy eyes and felt Sam wipe the remaining tears from his now flushed cheeks with his palm, pretending not to notice.

Dean puffed out a calming breath, willing his heart to resume it's normal rhythm so that he could erase the previous moment of total dependency from his memory, telling himself over and over that _Dean Winchester_ does **not** feel sorry for himself. **Ever**.

And even more than that, Dean Winchester certainly does not cry about it.

_**TBC?  
Let me know what you think.  
The reviews so far are pretty awesome, so thank you!  
Especially to jennytork for correcting my very silly spelling mistake :)  
This chapter was written after I re-watched some Season 5 episodes, and I was missing the old brotherly bond the two had.**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Nothing Short of Invincible.**__**  
Part Seven.**_

A contented sigh escaped Dean's lips as he shrugged on his father's battered old leather jacket, running his fingers across his newly shaven cheeks; his chapped lips curved into a faint smile.

Today, he was leaving the hospital. Dean's brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what was missing, pushing his hands into the leather jacket's deep pockets.

His fingertips brushed cold metal and his face broke out into a full on grin as he pulled out the golden amulet, slipping the woven leather necklace over his head. Finally, he felt more like his old self again.

He glanced up to see Sam beaming at him from the doorway, watching him carefully with unblinking eyes.

"Staring...it's creepy, dude", Dean slurred, unable to correct his hearing by ear but not allowing that to hold him back. So, he was deaf. That didn't mean he had to pass up a single chance to poke fun at his geeky little brother.

Being unable to hear had knocked his confidence to start with, spending a day or two communicating through a pen and paper before even attempting to speak. Now, he'd been working on lip reading with Sam.

Janey, the hot blonde nurse, had also been teaching him some sign language, although it wasn't just the sign language he'd been concentrating on during their one on one lessons.

_Yeah_, he was feeling a lot more like himself again.

Sam touched a finger to his lips, Dean recognising the sign now and perching on the edge of the hospital bed, his eyebrows knitting together in concentration. Folding his arms, he focused on his brother's lips.

Sam spoke slowly, putting emphasis on every syllable.  
"Do.."

Dean copied, repeating the word, motioning for Sam to continue as his little brother fought back a grin at Dean's expression. It was a slow process, but Dean successfully pieced together the first part of Sam's message on the first try, his eyes lighting up as he beamed in victory.

_"Do me a favour..." _Dean repeated, his voice sounding strange to Sam. "Anything."  
He punctuated his answer with a casual shrug.

"Don't get sick again", Sam said slowly through a smile, initially meaning it as a joke, though sadness and truth tinged his voice. Thankfully, Dean didn't pick that up.

Dean laughed, the sound echoing against the white sterile walls. Sam had missed the noise, the image of Dean completely breaking down in his arms was something that still haunted him from time to time.

Janey entered the room, causing Dean to look up, smiling that classic _Dean Winchester_ smile. Sam rolled his eyes and was shot a look from his brother, before holding his hands up in defeat and heading outside, a smirk on his lips.

The blonde nurse leant against the bed next to Dean, turning to sign _"How are you?"_

Dean chewed the corner of his lip, shaking his head and sighing in frustration, admitting he didn't understand. Janey reached out and squeezed the top of Dean's arm with reassurance before repeating the movements, only slower.

The corners of Dean's lips curled when he figured it out, pausing a moment to contemplate his reply. He raised his hands, successfully signing back that he was fine. Janey nodded and grinned, letting out a giggle that Dean didn't need hearing to know would be adorable.

_***_

Sam went to get two cups of coffee, balancing one on top of the other as he fished in his jeans pocket for the car keys. He appeared back at the door to Dean's room just in time to see Janey handing him a card that Sam knew could only be her number.

He rolled his eyes on reflex, although in reality he was feeling nothing but relief that Dean was back to his old self, not that he'd let Dean know that anytime soon.

He knocked on the door, holding up the keys to the impala with two fingers and shaking them as Janey looked up, Dean following and noticing his younger brother holding the keys to his beloved vehicle.

The older Winchester pulled himself up from the bed and bid Janey goodbye, slipping the card into his jacket pocket.

Just before leaving, Dean turned back to Janey, touching his chin and signing _'Thank you'_.

Janey nodded with a glistening smile that made Dean bite his lip as he admired her form, knowing full well that Sam would be huffing behind him, eyes rolled so far they were practically disconnected.

She mimicked the movement before raising a hand to bid Dean farewell, watching him turn and leave, glancing back at her only once before he headed off down the corridor.

She was going to miss having him around there. To be fair, all the nurses were going to.

_***_

Dean watched Sam unlock his baby, turning to open the door at the passenger side and climbing onto the cool leather seat. He'd forgotten how much he missed that damn car.

"Where to?" Dean asked, turning to Sam so he could attempt once again to read his brother's lips.

"Bobby's."

"Bobby's?" He repeated, receiving a nod from his brother. Maybe this lip reading thing wasn't so hard after all. Not that he'd be needing it for long.

The doctor's didn't know when his hearing would return, if it ever did at all.  
But then again, they didn't know the things that hunter's did.

Something would turn up, it just had to.  
Lives were at stake.  
Stuff out there needed stopping.  
_Dean _needed to be the one to stop them.  
That was just the way it was.

Sam started up the impala, pausing when Dean pulled a cassette tape from the glove compartment.

Instinctively, Dean picked one at random and pushed it in, flipping on the radio. Sam freezed as he watched, the engine humming quietly between them.

Dean's hand stopped dead, his fingers resting loosely on the radio dial. Sam realised that he was holding his breath, watching his brother intently with sorrow filled hazel eyes.

Dean's face fell and he nervously shifted further into his seat, retracting his hand when he realised what he'd just done, looking up at Sam and forcing a sad smile.

Turning away from his brother (he couldn't stand the sympathetic puppy dog look Sammy was giving him), he rested his head against the cold window, closing his eyes and letting out a dejected sigh.

They left the music on, just in case, and pulled away from the hospital. Sam focussing on the blaring Metallica that filled the hand-me-down car, Dean focussing on the blaring silence and imagining the steady thrum of the engine. _**His**_ engine. It was the little things that he missed.

Dean didn't know when his hearing would come back, if it ever did, but right now there was a cold beer or two with his name on it in the fridge at Bobby's._**  
**_  
_**End.**__****_

Sorry for the huge delay in this, my computer had a meltdown and I lost most of my stuff.  
_**Holy Sugarbutties! 45 reviews!  
**__**Thanks to everyone who read this story, and even more to those who liked this story, and **_heaps _**of thanks to those who reviewed!  
You all made me very happy :)  
But what did you think of the final part? I hope you liked it!  
You see that little button just down there?  
Click and review :D**_


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